Traveling Soldier
by Saint Lonely
Summary: A war is brewing between the Old Kingdom and Ancelstierre. Ancelstierre seems powerful, with the Dead allying with them, and a holocaust is coming. Amidst it all, a young Clayr falls in love. Please rr. Story has been edited!
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Gr. The Trilogy belongs to Garth Nix.   
  
A/N: I revised what I've posted before. But I haven't written much further than that...  
  
Traveling Soldier  
  
Glory was her name, and it was rightfully so. She held a grace about her, twinkling blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and smile that would light up the night, just like the stars. She was both well know and loved throughout the Clayr's Glacier, and she was one of the first of her age to See. She was Second Assistant Librarian, following in the footsteps of legendary the Lirael, her mother.  
  
Now, in her room which she shared with her best friend, she donned the red waistcoat of the Second Assistant Librarian, along with the tools handed down to her. A sword hung from her belt proudly, a prefect replica of Nehimia. The original copy still lay in the hands of her mother. A set of seven panpipes lay burrowed deep into one of her pockets. A small mirror was immerged in another, both tools of a Remembrancer. She hadn't yet mastered either of them, but she still loved the way they felt beside her, a reminder or her mother.  
  
A white garment lay on her bed, crumpled up, tossed aside without care. It was the Clayr's robe, the tell-tale dress of those with the Sight. Glory's fit her well, tailored to fit her slim frame. In her closet hung the starchy blue one, the child's robe of the Unseeing. She'd left it behind long ago, and traded in for the elegance and seemliness of the white robes.  
  
Glory stepped out from the confines of her room, shutting and locking the door behind her. Her key was on a chain, and the metal string laced around her neck, hanging just above her heart. She set off down the many, winding halls of a Glacier. To anyone else, the tunneling passages would've been an impossible labyrinth. She smiled at and greeted the Clayr she met along the way, but she moved quickly to her office. She unlocked it, finally arriving, with a low whistle. No other Clayr could open it, save the Chief Librarian. And the tiny space was something to call her own.  
  
Glory opened the door to reveal her office, where stacks of books and papers piled up, but the cheery hint of laughter brightened up the room. It was littered with sketches drawn by her and other friends, and handwritten notes scattered around as well. On the wall there was a painting, in oils, drawn by her mother. It was the Disreputable Dog, Kibeth, Lirael's first and best friend. Next to it was a portrait of Glory, her mother, and her father Nick. She let her hand graze across the smooth, wooden frame, then onto the stiff, dried paints that had created her family's epitome.   
  
She bore little resemblance to her parents. Nick was sandy haired, with tan and calloused hands from years of work in his science lab. Much of it came before she was born, or even before he had met her mother. His hands were strong and nimble, and they could do anything they wanted to. His frame was tall and built, perfect for his special bear hugs. Glory closed her eyes and remembered the last time she had been wrapped up in her father's arms.  
  
Lirael had long, raven hair and deep green eyes, with pallid skin she'd acquired walking in the rivers of Death. She was shy, and hid her curved frame well. Glory had the long, pale blonde hair of the Clayr, and sea blue eyes. Her skin was that of a Clayr as well - deep and tan, despite the Glacier's chill. She'd inherited their blood from her grandmother.  
  
She sighed as she stared at the portrait, as she did everyday. She missed her family, their visits becoming rarer with every passing year. It seemed there was always something to be invented, or a village of innocents to be rescued. With war brewing between the Old Kingdom and Ancelstierre, Lirael was kept even busier. Nick, and her cousin Sameth, were together producing a new invention, ammunition and rifles for the soldiers, instead of making toys and discoveries. Sameth had become the Kingdom's favorite toy maker, and now his mother and father finally respected his trade.  
  
Glory sat, both to work and remove her family from her mind. She did this often when she was alone, trying to erase the lonesomeness from her brain. She sorted books, this way and that, summoning Sendings for the jobs. They were willing to work, competing for the attention of the Clayr. She loved watching them, so eager, and often wished they could talk. She spoke with them anyway, but they never returned a single word.  
  
It wasn't until a young woman's voice drifted through her doorway that Glory stopped working. She looked up, and she saw her best friend, Renny, standing inside her office, the Third Assistant Librarian's yellow waistcoat hanging over hips. She smiled with caring eyes, embracing Glory from afar.  
  
"Come, there are soldiers arriving. They may stay a few days in the Dining Hall," Renny said mischievously. Few men were seen at the Glacier, and the sight was always a promise of pleasurable times and fun nights filled with the company of the males. The elderly Clayr smiled and watched, reminiscing together. Glory had heard each and every one of the "Back in my day…" stories time and again, but never tired of listening.  
  
Glory placed her prized quill pen on her desk, the one her father had made gave her, careful with the ink. The pen sung, her favorite song, her mother's beautiful voice singing the words. She stood, with a smile that matched the one that danced Renny's lips. The male visitors always brought fun to both her and Renny. She and her friend were beautiful, but Glory more so. Renny was a classic beauty, while Glory's was more unique. Men were captivated by them, by both their looks and their charm, and so they often held the company of passing merchants.  
  
Glory's features were more pronounced, with high cheekbones and a heart shaped face which her pale hair framed perfectly. Her lips were full, waiting to be kissed, and her blue eyes sparkled with laughter and mystery. Renny was much like the rest of the Clayr, but it was her personality and presence that set her apart. She bubbled with joy, and smiled away the rain clouds. Glory sometimes wondered how she did it, but then decided it should remain a secret. Strange as it sounded, she sometimes liked the state of melancholy she drifted in and out of.  
  
The two hurried together to the Dining Hall, where they found just a few girls. But outside lingered a troop of soldiers, their leaders conversing with the twinned Clayr, Sanar and Ryelle. Glory focused on their opened palms, for both talked along with the movements of their hands, the Charter scars still remaining from Nehimia's cuts nearly twenty years ago. She watched the women intently, the ones she longed to grow up to be. Every girl in the Glacier wanted to be like the twins, but few were destined for such wisdom and greatness.  
  
More teenage Clayr spilled in, the new spreading quickly along the chilled halls of the Glacier. Soon most of the Hall's tables were filled with white robed girls, though several tables were opened for the soldiers. Renny and Glory stood out, in yellow and red robes, but that was how they liked it. They loved standing out in a crowd, the attention it brought, and it made them easier to find. Their friends surrounded them, laughing, waiting for the soldiers to enter.  
  
Girls were beginning to point, secretly calling "dibs" on the man of her choice. Glory was determined to not to spoil the surprise and look closely, so she kept her eyes focused on her friends, who were beginning to point rather obviously. She laughed along with them, their joking natures not lost. Renny was seated next to her upon the table, while the rest sat in chairs. They gossiped, having not talked since morning.  
  
"Renny! Look! That one, he's looking at you," Sira exclaimed, drowning out the other's words. Renny's head snapped to the window, and finally spotted the one looking her way. She shook her head though, and looked down at Sira.   
  
"No, he's looking at Glory."   
  
Glory looked up, her tanned cheeks blushing easily. "No, he's looking at you. I'm sure," Sira said. The pink tinge fell away from her cheeks, and she looked away from the window. Sira and Renny began to argue playfully back and forth as they usually did, acting as sisters. In truth, they were cousins, but bore little resemblance.   
  
The double doors leading outside the Dining Hall opened, the long, creaking squeak of unused doors silencing the girls. Sanar and Ryelle stepped up on a stage before them, their motions exact and together. They waited until the last of the girls finally hushed, and then finally spoke.   
  
"You all know of the war beginning between the Old Kingdom and Ancelstierre. The Clayr have decided to shelter soldiers until the time beckons actual war," Sanar spoke, leaving the rest for Ryelle.   
  
"The Dining Hall will be open for no set amount of time, until the soldiers leave. You will be eating in the kitchens until then, where tables will be set up. A schedule will be made according to ages for times when you will be allowed to eat. And yes, ladies, you will be able to visit with the soldiers," Ryelle finished, giving way to the cheering of excited teenage girls. She smiled, then finally hushed them.   
  
Sanar spoke again. "You will have half an hour until you will be dismissed to go back to your rooms. Then, the soldiers will be treated to a meal, warm baths, and sleep - without your disturbances."  
  
With that, the troop of a hundred or so men walked in, or rather, marched. They were stiff and straight backed, with their arms at their head in salute. Their leader spoke to them quietly, and the hushed Clayr tried to listen. A few minutes later, the men were set as ease and were allowed to mingle.  
  
They set out to find their picks, having eyed the young girls from outside as well. Glory watched as several of her friends were taken away, but she and Renny stayed side by side. Soon, all of them were gone, and Renny patted her leg.  
  
"We'll get picked. Trust me. And if not, we'll stay with each other. . ." Renny tried comforting her, but Glory didn't need it.  
  
A handsome man walked up to Renny several minutes later to take her hand, though he wasn't the one who had been looking at her earlier, and with a sympathetic look, Renny walked away with him. Glory watched them across the room, where Renny glanced over to her alone every few seconds.   
  
A tall, brown haired man walked slowly to Glory, and time for her seemed to crawl. She hoped he was coming to her, but there were many others he could be walking to. Glory noticed that he was the man who'd been looking at Renny, and her heart sunk. He was looking for Renny, not herself. Slowly still he walked, with a smile on his lips and the glow of candles set on tables and hanging from both wall and ceiling dancing in his eyes. He stopped, in front of Glory and took her hands. She looked up at his handsome face with innocent, purely innocent, eyes as he towered over her.   
  
He brought her hands up to his lips and kissed the tops of each of her hands. His voice was husky and sent shivers up and down her body, making her glow with radiance.   
  
"Ay, me. I do believe I've come upon an angel."  
  
A/N: I'm reading Shakespeare in English. I wish I could remember exactly what Romeo says underneath Juliet's balcony, but I can't. Review if you know, and I'll change it.  
  
I'll post the other chapters later. Maybe I'll even get the initiative to continue it. 


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: Here's the second chapter. There's a bit more of Shakespeare in here, which I realized that I simply love now. There'll probably be a Romeo/Juliet type story sometime, or I'll totally revamp this one and create a whole new story.  
  
Now, on with the reading.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Glory walked back to her room, slowly, counting her steps. Her strides were long, that of a mans, and she stretched her short legs to move. She was late, she knew, but she didn't mind. The soldiers hands around hers were like a mirage - she could faintly see them and feel them, but she knew they weren't there. His callused palms were surprising comforting, somewhat like her fathers. The scent of his lips still lingered on the tops of her hands, the sticky print of saliva an ever-present reminder of him. Her white robes smelled of him as well, a scent that drove her senses wild, smelling vaguely of the country, blended with the spices of fresh cut wood. She was aware that she'd smelled the rich fragrances before, but it was new to her now.  
  
She was counting her steps for a reason, and for that, a smiled tugged at her lips. 306.... 307.... 308... Finally, she found herself at her door, at the end of a long, vacant hallway. The only other room down the carpeted corridor was leading to her bathroom. The private location of her quarters were granted with both years and good behavior. In the back of her mind, she often wondered if her mother had had anything to do with it. Slowly, Glory slid the knob on the door to the right and pushed, the wooden wall creaking back.  
  
Behind the door stood a waiting Renny. She had been waiting for several minutes, not like the hours she appeared to have. She was always early, and Glory always late. Renny was like a mother and a friend in one, for she always looked after her. They sometimes wondered how two girls so opposite were friends so close. Their personalities often clashed, but in a blended in a mix best known as unique, priceless.  
  
Glory looked up innocently to Renny, her eyes that of a begging child. She was only ten minutes late, but it was enough to worry her friend. She braced herself for the lecture Renny would have in store for her, though usually she would start to doze while listening, faintly hearing her speak in the dreams that came.  
  
"Where were you?!" she began, not pausing to glimpse Glory's awestruck face. Glory paid no attention to the ranting girl, just like always. She began to think of the soldier again, like the many times she had on her way to her room.  
  
"You could've gotten caught by one of the Elders! You could've... Glory?... Glory??" Renny had finally caught sight of the dreaming Clayr. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," Glory said quietly. She tried to shake the soldier from her mind, but the lingering memories danced throughout her mind and body. Now she knew it had shown on her face, and she cursed her vulnerability for that.  
  
"The soldier?" Renny asked, resuming her mischievous side.   
  
Glory nodded with a grin. She inhaled deeply, his scent clouding her senses. The smell of his natural cologne made her mind reel, a feeling she'd never experienced before in this way before. She was finding that she didn't mind either.  
  
"What happened?" Renny wanted all the details, she knew, so she began remembering. Glory began her story, a smile tugging again at her lips, and a small giggle escaped from their confines.  
  
  
  
Glory met his eyes, feeling her insides melt like candles under flame. They were deep brown, chocolate, sparked yellow by the reflections of flickering candlelight, with green twirling in them as well. His hands were warm covering her fingers, the rough skin smooth, gentle. He was tall, with a well built body. She could almost envision his muscles beneath his red and gold uniform. His skin was tanner that hers, from long, laborious days in the sun. His dark brown hair was short and unruly, making him all the more attractive, and then sun had streaked the tresses with light.   
  
"God-den," Glory managed to say after a moment of both silence and shock, her throat suddenly dry and tongue thick. She had been called pretty, but never gorgeous. His few words made her blood flow faster, her pulse beating rapidly. Her voice croaked, her naturally sweet and silky tone gone. She clasped her throat lightly with one hand.  
  
"Today must be the Heavens' saddest day, for they've lost an angel to the Clayr. Glory must be your name, for you hold the grace of the gods, and that is the highest honor. Your beauty radiates around you like lighthouse to a ship, and I have set anchor in your harbor."  
  
Glory was once again speechless. A tinge of red flushed against the soft, tan tones of her cheeks. "Thank you," she said again, in the voice that wasn't hers. S he paused and raised an eyebrow. With a laugh, she spoke again, "H - How did you know my name?"  
  
The soldier left is poetic image behind and smiled shyly, making him appear as a child for the first time. Glory, somehow, liked this side of him better than the charms, though that had impressed her. "It's hard not to see your angelic presence. The chains against my wrists broke free when I saw you, and now I am at your command. You are a graceful creature, Glory." He smiled shyly again, a twinkling smiled that sent his eyes lighting up with the flames of fall's leaves. Beautiful. That was a first as well. "I'll have to admit, it wasn't my intuition that supplied your name." The soldier leaned to his left with a smile.  
  
Renny, another soldier's arms around her waist, waved sheepishly. Glory laughed again and he joined in with her, soprano and tenor voices ringing together like a perfect melody. She felt the urge to throw her around him and kiss him crazy. He would scoop her up in his strong, firm grip, and it would be just liked she always imagined...  
  
"My name is Elijah, by the way," he said as their laughter died down. Her cheeks were still flushed, and he loved the way the red blended with the tan of her skin. He bowed to her on bended knee and smiled. Being with him felt so right, her heart said, but her mind was telling her otherwise, that is was all too sudden. While her heart and her mind were conversing, Glory decided to speak.  
  
"Where do you come from?"  
  
"Belisaere, but my faimly originates in Aunden. What is your full name, Glory?"  
  
"Glory Catalina Sayre."  
  
"Very pretty. Suits you well."  
  
Glory breathed out a sigh of relief. Lirael didn't use her last name often, as to protect her family. Abhorsen didn't call for the use of names, for that was her identification alone. Glory, of course, was safe at the Glacier, but Nick...  
  
"And yours?"  
  
"Elijah Damien Gordin."  
  
"Attached?" Glory blurted out, not thinking. Her eyes went wide and she clapped her hands over her mouth. What ever happened to the manners her mother taught her? Lirael would skin her alive if she only knew.  
  
Elijah chuckled, picking up her hands once more. She loved the sound of his laugh, the huskiness of it soothing and comforting, two feelings that never felt this way before. She felt so confused, so torn, so soon.  
  
"No, miss, I am not. No ties. But, I'm willing to change that," Elijah hinted. Glory's reddened cheeks grew brighter, and he lifted her hands up to his lips again. "The question is, are you willing, m'lady?"  
  
Glory nodded slightly, and Elijah laughed again, this time loud and clear, ringing across the Hall. The noise quieted down a bit, and people turned to look. Elijah didn't see, and he kept on laughing. She watched him laughing, his face set aglow, his eyes sparkling all the more. His hair shifted as he moved, changing his features as he rocked. The sight of him made her laugh as well, and the melody sang out once more.  
  
"Tell me about you, Glory. Question for a question, eh?" Elijah said, laughter still hanging on his voice.  
  
"How old are you, Elijah?"  
  
"Nineteen. And you?"  
  
"Fifteen. Color?"  
  
Elijah looked her robes up and down, then grinned. "Red." She giggled at his wandering eyes, the sound forever locked in his memory. "Flower?"  
  
"Lily. Hot or cold?"  
  
"Cold." She smiled. Clayr loved the chill, the Glacier being their home. "Belisaere or the country?"  
  
"The Glacier. Charter or Free?"  
  
"Charter." Elijah pulled her hand from her lap, and directed her fingers to the Charter mark on his forehead, which had been covered by his brown tresses. She touched his skin, the magic from the baptismal mark flowing into her. His magic was pure, the symbol not crumbling away. "Night or day?"  
  
"Night. Love or friendship?"  
  
"Love. Me or him?" Elijah chuckled as he pointed to the nearest solider.  
  
"You. Me or her?" Glory pointed to a young Clayr, barely thirteen, just awoken with the Sight. She was still awkward, her true beauty yet to be uncovered. She reminded Glory much of herself just four years before.   
  
"Tempting," he joked, "but you. Inside or out?"  
  
"Out. Left or right?"  
  
Elijah raised an eyebrow at her, questioningly. She doubled over with laughter, leaning forward. Her face was inches from hers. She could see the perfectly blended color of his eyes, and a scar above the right brow she'd neglected to see. He leaned in, quickly, and kissed her left cheek, and then quickly straightened. It was a brotherly kiss, nothing   
  
more, but still it brought the rose into her cheeks.  
  
"Left." He smiled, childishly again, and chuckled, his voice low and warm, mellow. The sound sent a wave of cold over her backside, and it wrapped her up in sure and strong arms, somewhat like she imagined the feel of his to be.  
  
"Attention!" It was Sanar who spoke, with Ryelle standing faithfully at her side. The room silence almost immediately, the sounds that once were echoed throughout the Hall. The ringing of her voice replaced it, the voice that demanded respect and listening Clayr, and soldiers now as well.  
  
"The soldiers will be left alone now. Clayr, please exit and go to your quarters, or to wherever you need to be. Any white robed young woman caught here afterwards shall be punished. No exceptions, unless a valid excuse with permission first. Thank you. You're excused."  
  
The room full of white stood and began to walk through the doors. They called last goodbyes and promised to return again. Sanar's words, "white robed young women" was used loosely, and she knew it applied to her and Renny as well. She hadn't been given any slack for being the Abhorsen's daughter.  
  
"One last question Glory. Will you come and see me again?"  
  
"Yes, I believe I shall. Now, one last for me." She paused, as if thinking, but the question had been on her mind for minutes. "True or false: All's fair in love and war."  
  
He thought for a moment, then spoke. "True."  
  
"Good answer."  
  
"Good question." Glory turned away, leaving the red and gold soldier for the time. She heard him speak, just low enough for her to hear, for she was just a few steps away.   
  
"Count your steps for me, Glory, from the door. I will come to visit, if you let me."  
  
She nodded, the only recognition she gave. She walked through the doors and stood for a moment, and then began walking again, counting the steps so carefully.   
  
  
  
Behind her, Elijah's friends gather around. With beaming smiles, they spoke of the Clayr they'd come accquainted with. When it came to Elijah, they couldn't help but poke fun at the rosiness in his cheeks.  
  
"Eli, I think someone's in love!" said one of the soldiers, slapping Elijah's shoulder playfully.  
  
  
  
"Is that what you call it? Love? No, men, Elijah Gordin is in lust."  
  
  
  
"If you laid eyes on the red-robed beauty he's entranced with, you wouldn't blame him," spoke Avi, Elijah's best mate. "But of course, my Renny is a sure match for his angel."  
  
Elijah smiled. He was the one shimmering with glory, not them, and he spoke quietly.  
  
"You jest at scars that never felt a wound.  
  
But soft! what light through yonder window breaks?  
  
It is the east, and Glory Sayre is the sun.  
  
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,  
  
Who is already sick and pale with grief,  
  
That though her maid art far more fair that she...  
  
...It is my lady, O, it is my love!"  
  
A/N: I warned you about the Shakespeare. So don't sue me, I'm not claiming it.   
  
I accidentily uploaded the wrong chapter. So ignore the last one. It was the second chapter to Crimson Regrets, not this. ^^  
  
Hope you liked it. Please review, I'll appreciate it. 


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